To Tia
To Tia, her feline majesty-
regal, independant aire,
Seen through flights of fantasy
reclining on her chaise d’or chair.
Aloof, withdrawn, yet crying out
in hungry little kitten cries
To echo past last dimming doubt
until I know and realize-
She’s kitten jinxed and cat complacent
seeming smug and so secure,
Sees the world through shrouded casement
and what she sees, she’s never sure.
But, how her eyes of liquid blue
draw me, beg that I respond to her,
Caress her hidden, bidden private view;
No cries, no words now, just a purr.
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